


A Brief Summary of Eternity

by bananacabana



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananacabana/pseuds/bananacabana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if in every lifetime you and I have ever lived, we've chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love over and over again for all eternity.<br/>Kurt and Blaine are soulmates, they've spent an eternity finding each other and falling in love.<br/>Written for the 2014 reversebang, and inspired by the artwork of lalala-broadway</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 341 BC

Kurt feels the pang of hunger sharp in his empty belly. It has been days since he'd last eaten and he has no idea when he'll get to fill his stomach again. It's a pain that simply won't subside, at all hours of the day the only thing filling his mind is his need for something to eat as the hot sun burns his bare shoulders. In a country renowned for its riches and luxuries, Kurt is only met with its cruelty. His mother died when he was born and his father perished in the war many years ago, leaving Kurt orphaned at just 11 and left to fend for himself.

But fending for himself is not quite as simple as it sounds. When the punishment for stealing can often be as severe as a severed hand, Kurt finds himself on the brink of starvation almost constantly. The relief of a mouthful of bread can only last so long.

The smells surrounding the market torment him. The delicious charring of meat sends him insane even though Kurt can barely remember what it tastes like anymore. His mouth waters at the sight of cheese and milk and he wonders if he could get away with taking just a handful of nuts. But Kurt is no fool, even if he wasn't so weakened from unending hunger, Kurt is sure he wouldn't be able to outrun anyone. Instead he settles for begging, finding a spot just outside the market stalls and kneeling down. Although being constantly surrounded by food sends him insane, the market is largely populated and where he is most likely to find sympathy.

Kurt keeps his eyes focused on the ground, hands outstretched in the hopes that a coin or perhaps a handful of something edible may fall into them from a generous stranger. It happens only rarely but if Kurt doesn't try, then he'll starve. The dirt and sand on the ground dig into his shins and his knees but Kurt pays them no attention, his mind is entirely on his hunger as he prepares for another long day.

After what must have been an hour, judging by the moving shadows, Kurt hears the sound of sandals crunching on the ground and spots a pair of feet in the corner of his vision. When the man doesn't make any indication of moving, Kurt looks up and his heart skips a beat at the sight of the armoured man. The city is teeming with Legionary Soldiers since their return from battle a few days ago and few of them treat Kurt with much kindness.

He prepares himself to be moved, hoping that this one isn't as brutal as the last, the bruises on his arm are still painful from his last encounter with a soldier. This one however makes no indication of moving and Kurt is baffled, staring up at the man. His armour is clean and polished to perfection, his shield has many dents and scratches but is otherwise clean and his sandals are barely scuffed. He is evidently a man who takes pride in his uniform and his empire. Kurt would admire him, even trust him if it wasn't for the threatening looking pilum held tightly in his right hand. Kurt eyes the sharp head of the spear with unease, knowing this man could kill him in an instant and nobody would care.

With a sudden jerk, Kurt realises his hands are still outstretched and quickly lowers them along with his head.

"Are you lost?" The man says in a way that Kurt can only describe as concerned.

"No, Sir," Kurt replies, eyes fixed on the ground. "I am merely a beggar."

"Beggars are not allowed in the market." Kurt can feels his hands beginning to shake, with hunger or fear, he cannot tell.

"P-please forgive me for loitering. I'll be on my way," he says as he attempts to rise to his feet but after six days without food and the heat of the sun bearing down on him all day Kurt stumbles, spots clouding his vision as he falls forward. The solder catches him easily, his tanned arms firmly gripping him but not painfully so. Kurt pulls back as his head begins to clear, apologising profusely, blushing as his stomach gives another groaning demand for food.

The man swings his pack from over his shoulder, opening it with deft fingers and pulling out a fat piece of bread. Kurt's eyes widen, his mouth watering at the sight. The soldier pushes the bread into Kurt's shaky hands and he grips it tightly, wondering if it will all disappear if he blinks his eyes. The soldier's hands linger over Kurt's, before his fingers gently trace down to his wrists and over the dark lettering imprinted on his skin. Kurt's mark appeared when he was 17 but he's never been able to read it. He'd fantasized about whoever's name it might be countless times but, growing up, he's had far more pressing matters to deal with than finding his soulmate.

"Do you know what this reads?" The man asks, seemingly knowing what the answer will be. Kurt shakes his head shamefully. Reading isn't exactly a common skill but Kurt still feels inferior when faced with those who can decipher the words.

"Come with me," the soldier commands. Kurt's heart sinks, he had been hoping for just a warning and then he could be on his way but he has no choice but to follow, not daring to disobey orders from a soldier no least. He clutches the bread tightly in his fingers, desperate to rip a piece off and satisfy his aching stomach but he waits, hoping to get a safe distance away from the man soon enough. Kurt follows him out of the market, wondering if he just plans on escorting him out then letting him go but the soldier keeps walking until Kurt wonders if he's still aware that Kurt is following feebly behind. He's led well away from the market, through the city until they reach a particularly rich area that Kurt has never visited before.

Kurt stops outside the grand home that he is led to. It's far too luxurious to be owned by a mere soldier.

"It's my father's," The soldier explains. "Please, come inside with me?"

Kurt shakes his head for a multitude of reasons. He eyes his dirty feet and filthy rags he calls clothes, knowing it would be of the utmost disrespect to enter this house the way he is.

"I can't..." he murmurs with another shake of his head as he turns to hurry away.

"Kurt" the man says firmly, Kurt freezes. He hasn't heard that name uttered since the day his father left for war many years ago, he'd almost forgotten what it sounds like coming from the mouth of another. "You are Kurt, are you not? Please, I've been looking for you forever." Against every instinct inside his body telling him to leave, Kurt feels himself being pulled inside, almost as if by some unseen force.

They go to the kitchen. It looks well stocked and well used and Kurt wonders how many delicious meals were made in this place, tries to imagine what they smell like, what they taste like. Pots and pans of all shapes and sizes sit on shelves and hang from the walls and a huge clay oven sits in the corner, ready to cook up a meal unlike Kurt has ever known in his life. "Please, eat," the man says, nodding towards the bread still clutched in Kurt's hands. "I didn't give it to you to simply hold." Kurt relents, picking off a small piece of the crust, savouring the taste and the feeling of having something inside his empty stomach for the first time in days. It's glorious. Kurt stands awkwardly eating as the soldier deposits his spear against the wall and begins taking off his armour, placing it on the empty table. He's left in a simple tunic and looks half the size he did before. It puts Kurt at ease a little.

Before Kurt realises it, he's finished the bread and finds with a sinking heart that he's still hungry. Before he has time to dwell on where his next meal will be coming from however, the man takes Kurt's wrist once again in his hand. Wondering why the desire to pull away is suddenly absent, Kurt lets the man inspect his mark, and, all too suddenly the realisation hits him like a mace to the head. Kurt does pull his hand back this time, everything suddenly making sense. Why else would a stranger, a noble born, be so kind to him? Could it be possible that this man is his soulmate? If so, then all these riches and luxuries could be his, his days on the street would be over and he'd never need to know the agony of insatiable hunger ever again. All because of some lettering on his arm that he can't even read. But is that what he wants? Is this man what he wants?

Kurt has never understood the concept entirely. His mother wasn't alive to explain it to him and his father was usually busy, working day in day out until the war ended it all for him. All he knows is that supposedly you find your match and you must then spend your life with that person. No one had explained to him this undeniable urge to be as close as possible, the frightening feeling of utter dependency.

"It's you, isn't it," Kurt says. The man lifts his eyes from where'd he'd still been gazing at the mark before lowering them once again. He's smiling which Kurt finds bizarre, he'd have thought a man such as he would be devastated to discover that Kurt of all people was his soulmate. The soldier reveals his own mark, spelling what Kurt can only guess is his own name.

"Do you want to know what yours says?" The man asks, still smiling like he's just been handed the world. Kurt finds himself nodding before he can even think. If he's being honest, he's wanted to know what it says from the moment it first appeared, but the frustration of not knowing, the agony of knowing that he'll likely never find whoever’s name it was had forced him to push down any desire of finding out. If anything, not knowing what it read had made it easier to deal with the fact that he was destined not to find him - for Kurt had always somehow known it was a he.

The man takes a seat at the table, urging Kurt to join him before he starts to spell out the words on Kurt's wrist. Kurt listens in fascination as each symbol becomes a sound. He can almost see it, see how the markings can be translated and put together to form a word, a name. Not just any name, his soulmate's name.

"Blaine Anderson," he says, finally able to put a name to the face. Kurt tugs Blaine's wrist back to him so he can see his own name, only to find that their names share few symbols and that he can't decipher it. Of course he knows what it says but he can’t see it as he can see Blaine’s name. So, patiently, Blaine teaches him to read his own name as well. Unlike Kurt's wrist, there is only one name on Blaine's, as Kurt has no second or third name.

"Thank you," Kurt says, finding himself smiling for the first time in longer than he can remember. Kurt's hand is still clutched around Blaine's wrist. He moves his fingers slowly before he entangles them with Blaine's and suddenly words are no longer necessary. Kurt can see for himself that this man is his soulmate. He can tentatively read their respective names on each of their wrists, he can feel the pull in his chest, driving him inexplicably towards this man and telling him that no matter what, he must not leave his side.

The kitchen filled with goods is lost to him, the incredible house with enough linens and fabrics to last a lifetime seems obsolete. If Blaine were a beggar like himself he still couldn't be any less overjoyed than he is now. It's more than just words on a wrist, it's the feeling of completeness, of finding your other half and finally being whole. It's the same sensation of finally eating after days of starvation only multiplied by more than Kurt can count. The understanding may have dawned on Kurt slowly but the feeling of finding him by far beats the feeling of anything he's ever known.

Blaine leans forward slowly, lips pausing just a fraction before Kurt's, giving him time to pull away if he wishes. But Kurt remains still, allowing Blaine's lips to gently caress his own, sealing their fates together for the rest of this lifetime.


	2. 1266

Blaine's life changes the day he gets his mark. He’s 16, wondering what to do with his future when he wakes up one morning to find that apparently, everything has been decided for him. He had wanted to take over his father's farm. He loves the early mornings, taking care of the animals, tending the crops. It’s hard work but Blaine finds it to be rewarding.  When Blaine awakes that day, however, the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon as the cockerels sing their morning song, he feels a strong itch on his right wrist and not long later discovers the name of one Kurt Hummel imprinted in bold letters on the surface of the reddened skin.

The future King is to marry a simple farm boy, it seems laughable.

He withholds the information from his parents for some time after that. That day he does his chores as normal, hiding his wrist beneath long shirts and making sure not to let the mark show.

It’s customary for the Prince's mark to be kept hidden from the people so that no one could make a forgery, claiming to be the soulmate of the future heir of the land in order to claim the royal family's riches as their own. It has happened in the past, many years ago and now, many nobles keep their mark secret.

It’s possible, though unlikely, that the name Blaine has on his wrist is indeed not the prince, but another Kurt Hummel, sharing the name with the prince out of pure coincidence but, somehow, Blaine has a feeling that that is not the case. The moment he saw the mark there was an undeniable attraction, an irrefutable need to find the prince. Surely that means that he is the one.

The only problem is - how is he to make it known that his soulmate is the future king? He doesn’t want to make a spectacle, he doesn’t want people flocking to the city to see him, to laugh at the fact that he’s merely a peasant farm boy, he just wants Kurt. He wants to find his soulmate in a moment of privacy so they can share this incredible bond between just the two of them. More than that, he wants to make something of himself before he meets the man intended to be by his side for the rest of his life. The last thing he wants is for his soulmate to see him as just a lowly peasant.

Blaine decides shortly after discovering his mark what he must do, but it isn't until almost a year later that he finally takes action.

"A knight? Have you lost all sense?" his mother asks incredulously when he brings it up at dinnertime.

"It's what I want, please mother," Blaine begs.

"What about the farm? You said you wanted to take over one day," his father says, clearly displeased. "And anyway, you're too old to train to be a knight." That’s true at least, most knights train from the age of 7, starting out at pages and working their way towards knighthood. Blaine is 17 and the son of a farmer, he knows of course how much work he needs to do.

"I'll do anything it takes, I need to do this, please. Cooper can take over the farm, I'll convince him to."

"You know we can't stop you," his mother tells him softly, "We just want to make sure you're making the right decision."

Blaine's heart soars, "I am, I'm sure of it!"

Cooper is the only person Blaine tells about his mark. They're sparring in an empty field outside the barn, with the wooden swords they had carved with their father one summer. Cooper had taught Blaine how to fight when he was little and he's just getting old enough for it to be a fair match between the two of them.

After much protest about taking over their father's farm, Blaine shows him his mark, begging him to keep it a secret. Cooper is quiet for a moment, eyes wide as he calculates exactly what this means for his little brother before his face erupts in a smile.

"Go get him," he tells him with a clap on the back.

So Blaine packs his bag, says a heartfelt goodbye to his family and leaves the only home he's ever known.

It doesn't take long in the city for Blaine to discover that there is a reason why peasants don't usually just become knights. He knows nobody, he has barely a penny to his name and when he isn't working at the local tavern, he's resting his aching feet from standing all day serving drunkards. Every night, he retreats to his room above the tavern washes himself and stares disheartened at the mark on his wrist, knowing that yet another day has gone by and he is no closer whatsoever to being worthy of meeting his soulmate.

Many nights Blaine wishes it could be simpler, he wishes he could have had the name of someone closer to his own status. Someone he wouldn't feel honoured to merely have a meeting with but he knows that's not how it works. He was chosen, for whatever reason and by whatever great force, to be Prince Kurt's soulmate and Blaine must do whatever he can to earn the right to be with him, even if it means cleaning vomit from his clothes night after night.

Many people believe that with the help of some divine intervention, there is always an opportunity to meet one's soulmate, and for Blaine this opportunity comes after almost eight months of leaving home with no progress on his original plan.

It seems ludicrous, for royalty to even give such a place as this a mere thought but, one night, none other than Kurt Hummel enters the tavern. Blaine notices him immediately. Despite the disguise, covering most of his face and the relatively ordinary looking clothes he has, Blaine knows it's him. He can feel the undeniable force the moment he lays eyes on him and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that it must be him. He can't even imagine what the prince must be doing here but he orders a tankard of ale and Blaine can't stop shaking the entire time. It would be so easy, to introduce himself, to show Kurt his mark and tell him his name. He'd be lifted from this place immediately, showered in gold, he'd have Kurt.

But that's not how he wants it to go, he has a plan and he's determined to stick to it, despite how it isn't exactly going how he expected it to. He wants to be someone, he wants to be worthy and, right now, serving ale to drunks and spending the early hours of the morning cleaning up goodness knows what, Blaine doesn't feel even close to being worthy.

Blaine keeps an eye on Kurt. He sits at an empty table, away from the other patrons and it seems as though he's waiting for someone. It's not until almost an hour later that the other person arrives. He's tall and Blaine immediately feels distrust towards him. He goes to the bar and orders two more drinks, presumably for him and Kurt before going to sit down.

Curiosity gets the better of Blaine, so he places the drinks on a metal tray and takes them over to the table in the hopes of catching some of the conversation.

"It's right there, clear as day. Kurt Hummel." The shady looking man is pointing to his wrist and Blaine notices that Kurt looks uneasy, staring at the man's wrist uncertainly and thankfully paying Blaine no attention as he slowly places the drinks before them both.

"I need you to tell me your name," Kurt demands.

"You don't trust me? We're supposed to be soulmates," the man reaches for Kurt's wrist but he snatches it away, clutching it to his chest protectively.

"If you can't tell me your name then you're not my soulmate."

The other man gets angry. He slams the table with an angry fist, sending their drinks flying. The tavern goes silent and Kurt seems to notice the entire place is looking at him and he pulls his hood further over his head, conscious that someone might recognise him.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Blaine says calmly. The man ignores him however, cursing and swearing at Kurt who recoils with every verbal attack until Blaine quite frankly loses his temper. With one quick punch to the temple, the man is knocked out cold, lying on the floor unmoving.

"Thank you," Kurt says, relief swimming through his eyes. The rest of the tavern has gone back to ignoring them and Blaine knows that he should get back to work but can't bring himself to tear his gaze away from Kurt's crystal blue eyes. "May I ask your name?"

"Blaine," he replies automatically, noticing immediately the change in Kurt's expression. He looks expectant, excited almost and Blaine suddenly realises his mistake.

"Blaine?"

"Smith," he corrects, "Blaine Smith." He holds out his hand and Kurt shakes it, seemingly disappointed while Blaine's heart races at the contact.

"Well, Blaine Smith, that man was trying to take advantage of me and you saved me. For that I am grateful and I would like to show my thanks in a more appropriate way. Please, if you would, come to the palace tomorrow at noon, I'll inform the guards and have them grant you access."

With that he leaves and Blaine is left wondering how he could possibly be stupid enough to throw away such an opportunity. He could have told Kurt then and there his real name, they could have had that moment of privacy that Blaine has always wanted but he was so caught up in his plan, so obsessed with making something of himself that he'd momentarily forgotten his main cause, and that was Kurt.

He debates going the next day, but ultimately decides that it can't hurt. He washes his best clothes as thoroughly as possibly before scrubbing his skin until it's raw but undeniably clean and the next day, sure enough he is granted access into the great castle.

He is received by a guard then passed on to another and another until Blaine is certain that this isn't a palace at all but a maze, with various people leading him deeper into its heart until suddenly, he finds himself before the King. Blaine is sure his heart stops for a moment as he's led into the throne room by a knight. King Burt sits immaculately dressed in fine robes and furs and looking the epitome of regal.

"This is him, father," a familiar voice says behind him. "This is Smith, the man who saved me last night."

"I-it's an honour, Your Majesty," Blaine says with a deep bow, finally finding his voice.

"Sir Gilbert," the King says, his voice loud and booming, "If I remember correctly, you're in need of a squire?" The knight beside Blaine bows.

"That is correct, My Lord,"

"Are you skilled in combat, Smith?"

"I’m fair with a sword Your Majesty - "

"He can train," Kurt says. The knight, Gilbert, seems to be sizing him up. Blaine knows he's small, knows he's of a poor background, knows he probably doesn't have the necessary skills to even be considered but he wants this so desperately, everything he's ever wanted is right in front of him, mere inches away. And Kurt is there sticking up for him, helping it to come true, perhaps there was more to the whole soulmate thing than just a name on a wrist.

"Gilbert?" The King addresses.

"I'm not against giving him a chance."

That seems to settle it. Blaine isn't sure how exactly but he goes from a cramped room at the inn to the palace in just under a day. He goes from a bar tender to a squire of Kurt Hummel's personal knight.

His life changes dramatically from that day on. He wasn't sure it was possible but he finds himself working even more hours than before, training day in day out with Sir Gilbert. He learns everything a page is expected to know in an impressive few months and miraculously, Sir Gilbert seems satisfied, if not actually impressed with his progress.

It's hard work, and Blaine misses his family terribly, having not seen them in over a year now but it's worth it for the few occasions when he gets to see Kurt. He wouldn't call them friends exactly, but he notices how the prince smiles at him while passing by, how he lingers occasionally when Blaine is training. The day when he can finally tell Kurt his real name seems not so distant, not so impossible any more but he wants to get the timing just right, for fear that things turn sour. It's clear that Kurt is uneasy when it comes to the prospect of finding his soulmate. So many people across the country wish it were them, so many lie and Kurt is so very guarded because of it. His wrists are constantly covered and he only rarely leaves the castle. Blaine's heart aches for him but it's impossible to find a moment when he can be alone with Kurt in private. He may have worked his way up considerably but he is only a squire still after all.

It takes time, but slowly, the brief smiles and nods turn into conversations. Kurt still likes to occasionally thank him for saving him that night in the tavern many months ago and Blaine blushes, thanking him for giving him such an incredible opportunity. Blaine always leaves feeling as though there is so much left unsaid, not just on his part but Kurt's also. He constantly looks on the verge of saying something only to bite his tongue at the last moment and Blaine wishes more than anything for them both to have the courage to say what they really want to.

Shortly after Blaine turns 21, Sir Gilbert leaves the service of Prince Hummel and Blaine takes his place. He set out to become a knight and he achieved that and more, Blaine can't believe his luck. He has to tell Kurt the truth now, he knows it, but after being in his company for over three years, it's a difficult subject to bring up. He isn't even sure how Kurt will take the fact that he's been lying about his name all this time.

Just a few weeks after receiving his knighthood, Blaine is summoned to Kurt's chambers. Kurt has been setting him small tasks ever since being knighted, to get Blaine used to the job so he expects nothing more than that when he knocks softly on Kurt's door. It swings open and Kurt ushers him inside, a nervous smile on his lips. It is apparently contagious because Blaine's heart suddenly begins to pound, although that isn't unusual when he's in the company of the prince. Blaine finally understands when Kurt begins to peel back the sleeve of his tunic.

"Only those I trust undoubtedly have seen this. My father, Sir Gilbert and now you," he says as he uncovers his wrist and Blaine sees for the first time his own name written on Kurt's pale skin.

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine reads.

Kurt looks at him almost expectantly, eyes wide as though waiting for Blaine to speak. Slowly and with shaking hands, Blaine lifts his own wrist, pulling back his sleeve for Kurt to see. He doesn't know what he expects exactly, but Kurt's lips crashing against his own was fairly low on his list. He feels the sensation like a thunderclap, like everything suddenly falling into place in one chaotic explosion. Kurt kisses him fiercely and the moment Blaine catches up with what is happening, he kisses back without a single thought as to what is happening exactly, merely lost in the sensation of it all.

Kurt pulls back first, a smile on his lips that could rival the happiest man on earth. Blaine is dumbfounded for a moment.

"I've been waiting to do that for so long," Kurt says through his grin.

"You...you knew? All along?"

"You think I wouldn't recognise my soulmate when I first laid eyes on him?" Kurt counters. Blaine doesn't know what to say, all this time Kurt knew, all these years of waiting for the perfect moment to arrive and Kurt knew. "I don't know why you kept it from me but I'm trusting you had your reasons. I wanted to wait for you to come to me, confess your real name but...it started to feel like that was never going to happen. Should I have waited?"

"God no," Blaine says as he leans in to kiss him again.


	3. 1716

"Arrr! You'll be walking the plank today!" Puck sneers, kicking Blaine in the centre of his back and sending him sprawling into the sand.

"Puck!" Blaine complains, rubbing his back, "You said you wouldn't kick anymore!"

"You're not supposed to talk, you're drowning."

Blaine stands with a huff as he marches home. Puck is never much fun to play with but now that Cooper's gone and his best friend Sam is never around, Blaine has nothing else to do. Sam's dad is a fisherman and has decided that it's about time Sam learn the trade too and Blaine is beyond jealous. He loves the ocean and wants nothing more than to own a huge ship that he could live on out at sea, fighting pirates and sea-monsters. Sam promised they'd have an adventure one day but now every morning he's gone before the sun rises and by the time he gets back home, Blaine's mother is calling him in for dinner, telling him he's far too old to still be playing these silly games.

As for Cooper, Blaine has no idea. One day he joined their father on one of his voyages and never returned.  His parents never talk of him anymore and eventually, he learned to stop asking.

"When will father be home?" Blaine asks his mother at dinner, with his father away on business and Cooper god knows where, dinner has become a quiet affair. He remembers the times not all that long ago when the table was filled with laughter, with chatter, with noise, when his brother would tease him and their mother would reprimand him gently, when their father would talk of his travels, filling both children with awe. Now it's just Blaine and his mother, the extra seats filled only by secrets and things left unspoken.

It's been over a six months since Blaine last saw his father, he'd missed his eighth birthday so Blaine is expecting his ship to be full of gifts to make up for it but every day he asks, his mother seems to grow more and more bitter, spitting out insult after insult regarding his father. Blaine wishes she wouldn't but doesn't dare defend him.

"The Sea Pig will be back when he's back," she tells him and Blaine says no more.

It's a few weeks later when Blaine sees the familiar white sails on the horizon and he knows instantly that it's his father's ship. Abandoning his game with Puck, he rushes to the harbour, wanting to be the first to greet his father when he steps on land. In his haste, he forgets to even put his shoes back on and the cobbled sreets cut his bare feet but Blaine doesn't care, his father is back home and nothing else matters.

"Papa!" he yells, seeing his father at the docks and running towards him. His father catches him in his arms, swinging him around.

"My goodness, you've gotten big!" Blaine giggles, wrapping his little arms around his father's neck.

"I missed you!"

Although Blaine firmly believes that his father spends his time going on adventures and fighting pirates, the reality is that Mr Anderson is a merchant, he trades and transports cargo and it's only a matter of time before he'll have to leave again, but right now, Blaine is the happiest kid in the village.

Blaine sits on his father's shoulders the whole way home, telling him everything he missed while he was away.

Blaine receives his belated birthday presents by the fire that night, his mother watching cautiously from the doorway. It's not much, just a few books and a shiny new compass - there aren't many places to purchase gifts out in the wide open sea - but Blaine is happy enough that his father remembered.

"You're getting older now, son," he father says as Blaine hugs him once more, thanking him for his gifts, "what do you say you come with me one of these days?" Blaine's face lights up almost comically as he nods frantically. His father ruffles his hair and sends him to bed.

That night, Blaine sits at the top of the stairs as he listens to his parents fighting. It's nothing new, they fight more than anything else but this time, there's far more at stake for Blaine.

"Absolutely not." his mother's decision might as well be written in stone.  

"He can't stay here his whole life. He's growing up he needs to learn how to work,"

"I'm not having you corrupt both of my sons. That's final!"

It's only a fantasy anyway, Blaine knows it's never going to happen but for one fleeting instance that night, he really believed it could.

 

When Blaine is 14, his mark appears.

He wakes up, the itching on his wrist unbearable and as he scratches it raw only to discover upon blinking his eyes open that there are letters etched into his skin. His eyes are blurred with sleep and he can't make out what it says exactly so, after giving himself a moment to wake up, he tries again. But, even when he’s wide awake, eager to know the name of his soulmate, the letters still make no sense. Blaine can read moderately well but the letters on his wrist are unlike any he's come across before. Blaine knows without a doubt that they're not English.

It's not uncommon for soulmate marks to be written in languages from around the world. If your soulmates speaks a foreign tongue then their name would be written as such but Blaine is sure he's never encountered an alphabet such as this before.

He shows his mother over breakfast who only gives the mark a baffled expression before sending Blaine off to run errands before he starts his deliveries for the day. Now that he's becoming a young man, Blaine had found himself a small job delivering meat from the butcher to people over town. It doesn't pay much but it keeps him busy at least.

Blaine lets the mark slip from his mind while he works, only glancing at it occasionally, a feeling of uncertainty drifting over him whenever he catches a glance of its peculiar lettering.

Once he's free for the day, Blaine goes to the library, determined to decipher what language his soulmate’s name is written in. He copies the name down, over and over until it's engrained into his memory but he finds nothing that could help him decipher it. There is simply no such language as that written on his wrist. At least, none that he can find in any written document. Blaine is certain that Lady Fate has dealt him a dead end, a glitch in the big scheme of things. He might just be the only person in the world destined to never find his soulmate, the one thing he had been depending on in his life of loneliness.

Blaine goes home that night even more dejected than ever. His friends never have time for him now they're starting to find their soulmates, he's likely never to see his brother again, his father has been at sea for over a year now and his mother is only ever happy when she's complaining.

He wants to be out at sea, he wants to join his father on his ship. He is old enough now to understand that his father doesn't spend his time fighting monsters but doing real, hard labour but Blaine doesn't care. He wants to be out in the open air, he wants to sail the seas and go on adventures. Especially now that it's clear that there's nothing left for him on land, not even his soulmate.

Blaine's 15th birthday comes and goes before his father finally returns only this time he does not bring gifts. There isn't much he could bring a boy of Blaine's age and Blaine doesn't want anything anyway. He only wants one thing and that is to leave this place and never come back.

His father is all too happy to grant his wish.

Blaine is older now, he can say no to his mother's wishes, he can demand to go with his father and there's nothing she can do to stop him.

They set sail within the month. The moment Blaine sets foot on the ship, leaving behind everything he's ever known, he feels a sense of freedom uplift him. No longer is he bound by  the troubles he faced on land, all that is important now is keeping the valiant ship sailing along the perfect blue waves.

He waves goodbye to his life on land, to his mother who had cried and cried as she begged him not to go. He waves goodbye to his long lost brother, to his dreams of getting married, to a potential future that he can no longer wrap his fingers around, to the chance of ever finding a soulmate that doesn't exist. He says goodbye to it all then turns his back on the shore shrinking away behind him.

While his father captains the ship, Blaine works as a cabin boy. It's sloppy and degrading but there is nowhere Blaine would rather be. Each day he wakes to the gentle rocking of the ship, knowing that he's miles from home, knowing that there is quite literally a shipload of tasks for him to do yet each day Blaine wakes with a smile on his face. He gets up, does his work then at the end of every day just the sun is dipping below the horizon, Blaine takes a moment to just gaze out at the sea. He watches the waves placidly rippling beneath them, gently rocking the ship from side to side. Sometimes, when he gazes too long he feels a kind of pull, as though something is physically trying to drag him to the water. He's always felt this craving, this urge but now that he's actually out here, it feels stronger than ever. On top of that, he can't shake the feeling that something is following him, lurking beneath the waves, waiting for him. He knows it's ridiculous, puts it down to just being a little homesick as he reminds himself what it is exactly he loves so much about the ocean before heading to bed, ready for another day.

It doesn't take long for Blaine to forget about his mark, he loves when he gets so filthy scrubbing the deck that he can barely make out the bizarre lettering on his wrist. He has come to despise the mark, knowing that it will never bring him happiness, that he will never find a person with his own name etched into their skin. He chooses to forget, to let it go, to never give it more than a passing thought whenever he happens to glance at his wrist.

The breeze blows through Blaine's curly hair as he sits at the top of the highest mast on lookout duty. He feels like he can see to the edges of the earth from here. The ocean appears almost to curve at the horizon, reminding Blaine why he loves being at sea so much. It's so unendingly vast, so open, so free. Here he sits on a tiny blip of a ship in the middle of thousands upon thousands of miles of water.

On top of the mast, he can hardly even hear the sounds of the crew below and Blaine truly feels like a single soul floating through the unpopulated vastness of the sea. It's so easy to forget about everything up here.

Blaine keeps an eye on the horizon, happy to waste away the day watching the sun bounce off the waves. Ships pass but nothing to be concerned about. Pirates are what he's really on the lookout for and for the first time in years Blaine feels the thrill of his childhood games once more. The only goods they have on board is sugar but to a pirate, they might as well be sailing with priceless jewels.

Usually there's nothing to worry about. Usually Blaine spends his lookout days staring out at a blank canvas but today there's something that catches his eye. There's a ship in the distance, adjacent to them and trailing slightly behind and has been for some time. He keeps an eye on it, hoping that it will soon manoeuvre in a different direction but after two hours, it's still there, and seemingly getting closer.

Blaine looks through the spyglass to discover that it is indeed moving closer and, with a sinking heart that it is exactly what he had feared.

He blows his whistle and yells to the men below who immediately spring into action to defend the ship. Blaine stays put, keeping an eye on the ship that is still a reasonable distance away but moving threateningly closer with every minute. He feels the lurch of the ship as it veers to the right, clinging on to the mast to keep from falling. The pirate ship follows and Blaine knows that they're in pursuit.

The thunderous sound of cannons fills the air and the deck below descends into chaos. Men run to their stations frantically trying to get them moving as fast as they can possibly go but the pirate ship sails at a frightening speed, it feels as though they're upon them in mere seconds.

Blaine begins to descend as he hears the second round of cannon fire, eager to get his feet back on the deck. The boat shudders at the impact and Blaine clings to the mast, afraid he’ll fall.

A third round of cannons has Blaine wondering if they plan on robbing them or killing them. The boat is already close to sinking and the pirates show no signs of stopping.

A fourth round and a stray cannonball soars right through the base of the mast, tearing it away from the ship and Blaine is sent hurtling into the ocean, clinging feebly to the wood.

He hits the waves with clap and immediately loses his bearings. He can't tell which way is up or down, only that he can't breathe and there is seawater pouring down his throat. The water is thunderous in his ears as he kicks frantically, not sure in what direction he's going but manages to break the surface, coughing and wheezing desperately for a breath of air only to be pulled back under again. He kicks again, flailing for the surface and manages to break through once more, gulping another huge breath before he is once again dragged under.

It's a constant cycle of struggling until Blaine's legs feel like they're made of lead, his arms hanging limply by his side.

He simply does not have the energy to swim anymore and he knows it's his turn to drown. Below the waves, he sees the sinking ship, hurtling at a surprising speed towards the seabed. Just like that his father is gone. All those years of waiting for him to return and now he never will. Nor will Blaine

His mother will receive the news of their deaths, she'll weep for Blaine, she may even shed a tear for her husband. Blaine is glad his last thought will be of her. He knows he's close to death, he can feel it, there's an angel tugging on his arm, fingers brushing softly against his wrist right where his soulmate mark is. He doesn't want to die yet he welcomes the end.

But then there are arms around his waist and something is hoisting him up. He feels himself break the surface and immediately takes a few greedy mouthfuls of air, the only thing on his mind is the fact that he can breathe.

His arms seems to be able to work again as he thrashes to keep himself above the surface only for his arm to connect painfully with the thick mast of the ship, still floating on the surface despite the rest of the ship going under. Blaine grapples for it, clinging to the wood for dear life.

He's alive and he's afloat. It must be a miracle.

The pirate ship is still there and Blaine feels the cold surge of fear, knowing that if they spot him he's done for. But then would that really be such a bad thing? Surely it's better to die quick than to slowly starve or freeze to death while floating on a barren piece of wood in the middle of the ocean. What had once appealed to him terrifies him more than anything. The ocean's vastness is unforgiving and if he doesn't die now then he'll simply be drifting aimlessly until his life abandons him.

If he wasn't so terrified, he'd beg them to take his life, but Blaine is just 15, he shouldn't be asking to die.

Blaine isn't sure if what he feels is relief or not when one of the pirates spots him, yelling to the rest of the crew "Boy overboard!"

What he doesn't expect is a rope to be tossed down to him and to be hoisted onto the ship that had sent his father and shipmates to their deaths.

"Kill 'im!" one of the pirates yells, brandishing a sword and pressing it Blaine's throat.

"He's just a boy."

"It's none of our business."

"Put him to work!"

The pirates argue over what is to be done with him while Blaine is just thankful to be out of the water. He shivers in his sodden clothes, hoping that they'll let him dry off before they kill him.

"What is the meaning of this?" a voice asks and the pirates immediately stand up right as their captain approaches. Blaine can't help but feel like he recognises the voice as he wonders just how delirious he must be.

"We found him overboard, Captain. He's from that trade ship, Samson pulled him on board."

The pirate captain takes one look at Blaine before pausing. Blaine stares at his feet, dripping wet and wishing it could just be over already.

"You, boy, what's your name."

Blaine shakes from both the cold and the cold fear he feels.

"Blaine," he mumbles, teeth chattering.

"Look at me and tell me your name."

Blaine does his best to swallow his fear. He brings his head up to meet the pirate captain's gaze, again struck by an eerie sense of familiarity when he lays his eyes on him.

"Blaine Anderson," he says again with just a fraction more confidence than before. The change in the captain is immediate and unsettling and Blaine wonders if he had somehow answered the question wrong.

"Blaine," the captain whispers and before Blaine knows it his arms are wrapped around his in a suffocating embrace. "Blaine!"

This is why his parents never mentioned Cooper's name any more, this is why they pretended he didn't exist.

Blaine's brother is a pirate.

And he had just killed their father. Blaine pulls away almost falling over the edge in his haste. The pirates grab him, preventing him from jumping overboard.

All these years Blaine had feared that his brother was dead but this, this is so much worse, this is hell and Blaine just wants to wake up already.

"You killed them!" he yells, fighting against the men, their fingers digging into his arms hard enough to bruise. "How could you?!" He wishes the waves had just taken him under for good, he would have happily gone to his grave never knowing this ugly truth.

"Let him go," Cooper commands and the men release their grip. "Get back to work."

Once they're alone, Blaine finds that he’s still shaking but he's no longer scared. He's furious. He wants to jump over the edge but he doesn't want to die. He wants to be back on his father's ship, gazing out into the vast wide open sea without a care in the world.

"Come with me." Blaine makes no indication of moving. "I owe you an explanation."

 _No_ Blaine thinks, _you owe me my father._

"Come on Squirt, I don't bite."

The nickname sends a jolt through Blaine's system. Suddenly he's five again and he and Cooper are playing together, fighting imaginary pirates on the beach. Before he left, Blaine worshipped Cooper. Their father was rarely around, and Cooper was always there for him until one day Cooper left too and never came back.

Blaine follows Cooper back to his quarters, relieved at least to be inside as his brother hands him some rags to dry himself.  

"You killed him," Blaine repeats, his voice small and barely there.

"I know. I didn't mean to."

"It looked pretty intentional to me."

"I didn't know that it was his ship."

"It doesn't matter whose ship it was," Blaine spits, surprised to find actual strength in his voice again. "You murdered people. You're a pirate."

"Look, Blaine, I know that dad was your hero and I hate to have to tell you this but he's not the man you thought he was." Cooper's voice is agonizingly calm. Blaine wishes he'd shout and scream back so he wouldn't feel so irrational doing the same. "Do you even know what it was he did?"

"He was a tradesman," Blaine answers, for the second time feeling as though he's giving the wrong answer to an obvious question. "He traded sugar."

"Do you know what he traded it for?"

Blaine is about to bite back an answer when he realises that he doesn't know.

"He traded people, Blaine. Slaves." Blaine shakes his head because no, he must be talking about some other man, that wasn't who his father was. "I was your age when I sailed with him for the first time. I was so excited. But when I found out what exactly we were doing, I was sick to my stomach. When we landed, I gathered a crew of...questionable background and I stole his ship, along with all his cargo and as many slaves we could carry on board, I gave them the option of going free or sailing with us. We used the sugar to trade for food until we ran out and then I ran out of options. I couldn't go home, father would have me skinned alive for what I did so I chose the life at sea. We shoot at anyone who think cargo and people are synonymous. We free what they don't have the right to trade and we leave them with nothing. Father's ship wasn't supposed to sink, I swear to you. Some of my men get over eager and I’ll be punishing them appropriately."

Blaine takes a seat on the floor, needing to sit down as he digests the news. It can't be true but Blaine finds that it's not all that difficult to believe. His father had always been an ambiguous man. It feels as though everything suddenly fits into place, why Cooper vanished, why his mother despises her husband so much, why Blaine was never allowed to join his father. It can't possibly be true but the more Blaine lets the news sink in, the more he finds himself believing every word.

Cooper takes several steps forward before kneeling down before Blaine. He rests a hand on Blaine's shoulder who flinches only briefly before relaxing into the touch. Blaine has missed his brother terribly over the years only he hadn't realised just how much until now. He lets out a soft whimper, the trauma of everything, getting ambushed and attacked, almost drowning, losing his father, finally catching up with him. Instinctively, he leans forward, forehead resting against Cooper's chest until his arms circle him, engulfing him in warmth for the first time in what must be hours.

"We'll turn this ship around, I’m gonna get you home buddy,"

Blaine nods, the last thing he wants is to return to the sleepy old fishing village only to stare wistfully out at the ocean, to something that was never able to be, but he's not sure if he can stay here. A pirate is a heavy title to take, one that can't be shaken so easily and although he would be here with his brother, fighting for what can only be a good cause, Blaine doesn't have the courage to object.

The sea is where he belongs, Blaine knows that, but right now, he doesn’t see many options open to him.

Blaine insists on being put to work as they sail back to land. Working on a pirate ship isn't a whole lot different to working on his father's ship. He scrubs the decks, helps in the galley, and delivers messages. If anything, the crew here treat him with more respect than on his father's ship. His father had not wanted Blaine to receive any special treatment for being the captain's son, yet here Cooper is adamant that no one lay a finger on his little brother.

At the end of every day, Blaine still takes the time to stare out at the same old ocean and wonder what it is exactly that draws him to it so much. Even now, on an entirely foreign ship, miles away from what he had set out to do and amongst a crew that had initially wanted to kill him, Blaine can't shake the feeling that he's being followed, that the dark shadows looming beneath the surface are something far more sinister than simply the shadows cast from the cloudy sky.

The days pass by quickly as Blaine throws himself into the labour and though he misses his father terribly, the thoughts of what he did, the crimes he committed play on his mind constantly. It's enough to make him forget entirely about the mark on his wrist until Cooper points it out one day.

"You got your soulmate mark!" he says cheerily over dinner in Cooper's quarters, noticing Blaine's wrist which for once isn't covered in dirt.

"Don't be so thrilled, I have no idea what it says and I'm never going to find them," Blaine replies. He's learned now that no good will come from dreaming over his non existent soulmate.

"Let me see." Blaine abandons his dinner of salted beef to surrender his wrist to his brother. He expects nothing, just a passing shrug and a mild look of confusion, it’s always the same reaction. But Cooper face is wrinkled in concentration as he stares down at the mark, as though trying to remember something.

"I've seen this somewhere," he murmurs while Blaine's heart skips. "I'm certain."

"Are you sure?" Blaine asks with uncertainty. The last thing he wants to do is get his hopes up but it's difficult to contain his emotions. This is the first time anyone has ever offered him even the slightest of chances of finding out about his mark.

"Yeah, it was...written down somewhere on a boat or a building or a...a cave! That's it! It was in the Kataui caves, right on the walls, there were all kinds of strange letters and I swear they looked just like these! I thought it was a dead language from centuries ago but obviously not!"

"How do you know it's not dead and I was given this by mistake," Blaine retorts, cautious about letting himself believe that he could actually find his soulmate.

"Don't be ridiculous! We'll go there, you'll see. Maybe some of the locals can tell us what it says," Cooper suggests and Blaine can't suppress a brief smile, letting the hope take seed for just a moment. Try as he might to contain it, Blaine would give anything to find his soulmate, to solve this mystery and he can't stop himself from hoping even if it will just lead to more disappointment.

The head to Kataui Bay the next day, much to the dismay of the crew since it means a complete U-turn. Cooper must be a well-respected captain, however, because their complaints are short-lived and eventually the care-free atmosphere returns to the deck. Blaine is itching in his boots as he works, just wanting to know if this could be what he's been looking for all this time or yet another dead-end to torment him. Even if the writing on the cave walls matches that on his wrist it doesn't mean he'll find his soulmate. All Blaine wants is answers.

The ship is anchored a several hundred metres away from the caves as Blaine and Cooper descend into a rickety wooden rowboat. Cooper rows them inside the cave and Blaine is almost scared to the look. He keeps the lantern by his feet, gazing up at the dark walls as Cooper rows them deeper and deeper inside the cave. Blaine wonders why anyone would go to such lengths to mark the inside of a cave wall, it's clearly not to ward any one off since anyone in their right mind would never venture so deep inside.

"Here," Cooper says as they drift slowly to a stop. Blaine lifts the lantern and, sure enough the walls are littered with an assortment of letters that resemble those on his wrist almost exactly.

"You were right," Blaine says, glancing from the walls to his wrist then back again. "But I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now, this still doesn't really tell me anything."  

The tiny boat rocks from side to side from the gentle waves as Blaine studies the walls, hoping that something might jump out at him. It doesn't occur to him as anything out of the ordinary when the familiar feeling of being followed returns or the pull that seems to want to drag him into the ocean seems stronger than usual.

A shrill mixture between a hiss and scream almost has Blaine tumbling out of the boat as he frantically turns only to discover a head poking out of the water and two hands clinging to the side of the boat.

Cooper yelps as he scrambles to the edge of the little boat, almost capsizing them while Blaine stays frozen to the spot, eyes wide with fear. Another head pokes out, hissing threateningly at the first and sending it on its way before turning to face Blaine.

In his surprise, Blaine had failed to realise that heads are human, or at least, that they resemble humans, boys even. The blue of this boy's eyes hits him before anything else, bluer than the sea itself and sparkling despite the darkness of the cave.

"Who-" but before Blaine can utter another syllable, the boy vanishes beneath the surface. "Wait!" Blaine exclaims, scrambling after him, plunging his arm into the water in an effort to reach him. A slender hand creeps around Blaine's wrist before he even has a chance to realise that it might have been a bad idea to offer his hand in such a way and before Blaine has a chance to react, his being pulled from the boat and into the water.

"Blaine!" Cooper screams before he goes under.

Blaine struggles to free himself but the other boy's grip is too tight. They go deeper, deeper than Blaine imagined the water to be inside the cave until he finally realises that struggling is useless. If this person, this boy wants Blaine to drown then there's nothing he can do about it.

Once Blaine stops fighting, he lets his eyes finally adjust to the murky water and settle on the boy in front of him. Only he's not a boy, far from it. Blaine's heart pounds as he takes in the thick tail emerging from his waist where his legs should be.

Whatever species this creature is is the last of Blaine's concerns, however, as he feels his chest tighten, his lungs demanding oxygen. They're far below the surface when the boy, the fish, the _creature_ comes to a stop, turning to face Blaine and still gripping his wrist tightly. He moves in close and Blaine finds that he's not repelled, still absorbed in the sheer blueness of his eyes, still impossibly bright this deep underwater when Blaine can hardly see anything else.

The boy kisses him, fingers stroking gently over his wrist, right where Blaine knows his mark is. The realisation hits him just before he loses consciousness.

When Blaine awakes, he's in the tiny boat again and Cooper is hovering over him anxiously.

"Blaine? Squirt wake up. You're okay, you're okay."

He coughs up a mouthful of water before heaving a breath.

"Where'd he go?" he asks, voice scratchy. "Where'd he go?" Blaine clumsily sits up and leans over the side of the boat.

"I don't know, but he's gone, don't worry."

"No! Coop, where'd he go, he has to come back!" Blaine demands.

"Are you out of your-"

"It's him! He’s my soulmate!" Blaine plunges his hand into the water again, hoping to find the boy, or whatever he is.

"Stop it, you're going to get yourself killed!" Cooper reprimands, pulling Blaine's hands out of the water. "What makes you think he's your soulmate, he tried to drown you!"

"I think he just...wanted some privacy," Blaine says meekly, knowing how he must sound but he honestly never expected to find his soulmate, he can't lose sight of him the moment he finds him. Fate can't be that cruel.  

As luck would have it, Lady Fate hasn't abandoned him, nor has the strange boy. He pokes his head up out of the surface again, smiling shyly up at Blaine.

Blaine extends his hand, his mark showing clearly as the boy takes it gently in his hand. Blaine sucks in a breath, ready this time to be dragged under but the boy makes no effort to pull him under again. Instead, he slowly turns their hands so Blaine can see his wrist and the mark imprinted on his wet skin.

_Blaine Anderson_

Blaine wants to laugh. All this time he thought his soulmate didn't exist when in reality, his other half was a part of the ocean itself.

The boy, his soulmate, shoots out of the water and up towards Blaine, kissing him again and half landing inside the boat. Cooper does nothing but stare wide eyed at the tail that his little brother's soulmate is adorned with.

Blaine knows now that he can never return home, or at least, to the home he once knew. The ocean is undoubtedly his home. If a life at sea is all it takes to be with his soulmate then Blaine is overjoyed that he gets to be so lucky.

He'll join his brother's crew, he'll fight the crimes of the world, happy to call himself a pirate if being a pirate is living a life that's free, that's just.

His soulmate will never be far, and he'll drag Blaine's enemies down to the depths of the ocean in times of trouble. They are a team, after all.

They'll eventually learn each other's languages, Blaine struggling with the long, rolling R of Kurt while the merman perfects Blaine's name in a matter of seconds.

They'll stay together forever, because that's what soulmates are; eternity.


	4. 1902

"Stop, stop, try that turn again," Madame Mirov demands, the music grinding to a halt as Kurt drops to the flats of his feet. His heart is pounding, his breath coming out in rapid puffs, he's gone over this dance countless times today and every time, he has been stopped for one reason or another. Kurt's graduation performance is coming up and it cannot be anything less than perfect. He has been rehearsing it for the last 7 months, determined to be flawless and today is just yet another day of endless practise.

The music starts up again and Kurt gracefully falls into the dance, stepping and turning, gliding across the floor with ease.

"Your left leg, raise it! Raise it!" Madame Mirov scolds as Kurt lifts his leg as high as he can during his spin. His teacher only sighs, dismissing him for a five minute breather.

Kurt hobbles to the edge of the hall to fetch his water bottle, legs aching from the nonstop rehearsal.

To make matters worse, Madame Mirov calls none other than Blaine Anderson to take his place as she begins instructing him. There is just one spot for the male lead in their graduation ceremony and Kurt is determined to make sure it's his. Blaine Anderson has been with the academy for half the time Kurt has, learning his basics at some unheard of school in Ohio before he moved to New York and was miraculously accepted into Mirov's Ballet Academy and Kurt will be damned if Blaine gets the lead over him, who has worked day in, day out ever since he was five to get where he is now.

Kurt scowls as Blaine goes through the dance, Madame Mirov only picking him up on a handful of faults before sending him off to rehearse and calling Kurt back. The smirk Blaine gives him as they pass each other is enough to make Kurt's blood boil. They've never been friends, they've never even tried, there's far too much competition at the Acadamy for any real friendships to work so there's no point even bothering.

"From the top," Madame Mirov instructs as the music starts.

Kurt goes home that day beyond exhausted. There's just one month left before the graduation ceremony and Madame Mirov still hasn't decided who will be taking the lead in the performance. Everyone knows the routine, eager to be cast but the lead has yet to be designated Kurt needs that position, every year without fail, the lead gets recruited by prestigious companies all over the world. Sure the supporting parts occasionally get offers too but it's the lead everyone is looking at, it's the lead that gets noticed by the best. Kurt has trained too hard for too long to let some newcomer take what should be his.

That night, Kurt eats a brief dinner with his dad, they discuss their days before he puts in another hour of rehearsal and then heads to bed early, needing to be up by 6 the next morning for another day. His final year at MBA is proving to be almost impossibly strenuous, leaving him with no time for himself but if he wants to be the best, he needs to put the work in.

Kurt's alarm blares predictably at 5:55am. He wakes irritable, and grouchy as usual, only today his wrist is itching like crazy and Kurt knows exactly what it is before he can even open his eyes. Suddenly he's wide awake, his future is written quite literally upon his wrist and Kurt is eager to know the name of his soulmate.

He shuts off the alarm and braces himself before taking a peek at the name imprinted into his skin.

_Blaine Anderson._

Kurt's stomach sinks. It can't be. It has to be some other Blaine Anderson, there's bound to be plenty of them in the world, but it has to be anyone other than _him_.

Kurt begins frantically rubbing at the name, hysterically hoping that it might rub away if he tries hard enough but the name stays persistently, taunting him with a future he's sure he doesn't want.

For years Blaine has been getting under his skin and now he's taken up residence there permanently.

Kurt goes to the Academy that morning even more grouchy than usual. He keeps his sweater on as he stretches, unable to bear looking at the mark any longer and the last thing he wants is for anyone else to see it as well. Kurt and Blaine's rivalry is no secret amongst the students here.

In the opposite corner of the room is Blaine. Kurt can almost feel him staring at him but he feigns ignorance, going about his stretches like nothing is out of the ordinary. If he can ignore it for long enough, maybe this whole thing will just stop being a problem and Kurt can focus on what's important; the ballet.

He goes through his routine, dancing until his feet can't take any more and then pushing himself beyond even that. Anything to avoid Blaine.

Madame Mirov picks him apart as usual before moving onto the next student and Kurt is at least grateful that he has plenty to work on to keep him busy.

"And remove that awful sweater, you're performing ballet, not decorating a house." Kurt grits his teeth as he pulls off his sweater, knowing that Blaine is watching him, knowing that he can see the freshly reddened mark on his wrist.

Unfortunately, Kurt is unable to avoid Blaine forever. He's cornered during lunch as he's putting his ballet shoes in his locker.

"May I talk with you?" he asks politely and Kurt almost feels bad for his biting response.

"No, you may not."

"I know you know what this is about. Please?" Blaine begs, lifting up his shirt sleeve and revealing the one thing Kurt has been dreading seeing, his own name written on the inside of Blaine's wrist. Kurt glances at it with disgust before meeting Blaine's eyes again.

"It means nothing," he tells him.

"You know that's not true, Kurt." Kurt grabs his lunch from his locker, resolutely ignoring Blaine. "You can't just run from this!" Blaine insists, following Kurt as he marches outside to eat. "You and I both know what this means, don't you even want to try and-"

"Try and what? Fall in love? Live happily ever after? Don't be ridiculous."

Much to Kurt's relief, Blaine doesn't try to engage him in conversation again after that. They're rivals. As elegant and composed at it appears on stage, the ballet world is dog eat dog and Kurt will not let his chances of success be ruined by a name on his wrist. He's worked for this for 13 years, he's not letting anything stand between him and his dreams now. Not even his soulmate.

Blaine keeps to himself, rehearsing his dance and always managing to be in Madame Mirov's favour. Kurt knows it's not from any real special skill, he's about as average as they come but all the teachers love Blaine for the simple fact that he's Blaine, charming, handsome, and infuriatingly polite while Kurt, who has trained every waking moment of his life, gets nothing more than a nod in his direction. Still, he throws himself into his rehearsal, knowing that it's the only way to keep himself focused.

The roles for the graduation ceremony are finally displayed the next week. Kurt arrives early, only to discover a huddle of people already crowding around the list. His stomach drops, he's not sure he even wants to look but finds his feet moving him forward nonetheless. He has to know, he needs to put himself out of this misery of wondering and know for certain if he made it or not.

The name next to the lead is identical to that on Kurt's wrist and if he had no sense of self control then Kurt would punch the wall in frustration.

It's not fair, he's by far the most disciplined dancer at the academy and Blaine, once again, swoops in and takes what's his. Kurt doesn't even know why he bothers trying any more.

From then on, Kurt's rehearsals are lax. No longer is he trying to prove himself, he does what he needs to as part of the ensemble but he refuses to push himself further, knowing that it will never get him anywhere. Meanwhile, Blaine is tortured by Madame Mirov which Kurt is somewhat gladdened by. She picks apart his dancing far more than she ever did with Kurt, especially when he's paired up with the female lead who, quite literally, dances circles around him.

Kurt watches with sardonic amusement as Blaine is ripped apart however, after just a few days, Blaine infuriatingly picks up the pace and for the first time ever, Kurt thinks he sees Madame Mirov smiling. He wants to be sick with loathing.

Staring at his wrist, Kurt wonders why fate would ever have considered them to be a perfect match.

It's just one week before the show and Kurt is as depressed as ever. His two chances at finding happiness - getting recruited by a ballet company and finding his soulmate - have both been shot down in flames right in front of him and Kurt finds that he no longer has the drive to push himself any more.

He goes through the routine with his class, performing the dance like clockwork he knows it so well, but he puts no passion behind it. He merely moves his body into the appropriate positions to keep up with the rest of the dancers, eyeing Blaine at the front with Eloise, the female lead. They dance in perfect sync and Kurt despises how attractive they look as dance partners.

They're coming to their final jump, Kurt stands at the side, having finished his section of the performance, and scowls at the floor as they finish the routine but instead of the perfect cadence from the piano, what meets his ears is a sickening crack and an agonizing cry. Kurt's head shoots up to see Blaine on the floor, clutching his ankle. Without thinking, he rushes to him, dropping to his knees to inspect the damage. It's like some whole other force takes over him, an indisputable need to take care of Blaine and make sure he's okay. He doesn't even think as he gently takes Blaine's ankle, declaring it broken after a quick inspection.

Blaine says nothing as Kurt checks him over, just gently whimpers when Kurt presses his fingers into the skin.

An ambulance is called and before Kurt even realises what he's been doing, Blaine is whisked away and Kurt is left with a strange, sickening, feeling of worry.

With Blaine out of action, Kurt is given the leading role but it brings him no joy, only guilt. It shouldn't be like this, he shouldn't have gotten it like this.

Once the day is finished, Kurt heads straight to the hospital, picking up some flowers on his way. He has no idea what he's doing, he has no idea what changed, but suddenly it feels as though all of the venom inside him has drained away. Getting the lead is inconsequential because Blaine is in the hospital and Kurt is actually concerned.

Kurt knocks on the door of the hospital room despite it already being open. Blaine looks up, sees the flowers Kurt has brought but says nothing. He takes that as enough of an invitation to enter.

Blaine's leg is propped up and covered in white bandages and Kurt knows that there's no way he'll be dancing any time soon.

"Congratulations," Blaine says miserably, "on getting the lead that is. I'm sure you'll be great." He didn't think it was possible but Kurt's heart sinks even lower.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says, lost for words.

"It's okay, it's not your fault. I just pushed myself too hard I guess," Blaine says with a shrug.

"It's not just that. I'm sorry for everything. For not giving you a chance for...for insisting that we be rivals rather than trying to be your friend."

"Kurt, having you for competition is probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn't be half the dancer I am today if I wasn't competing against you at every minute of the day," Blaine says with a laugh.

"And look where that got you," Kurt comments, nodding towards his broken ankle. There's silence for a while as Blaine has no counter to Kurt's argument. Sure, if Blaine hadn't been trying so hard to prove himself just as good as Kurt then he may not have injured himself, but if he never pushed himself, he would never have gotten the lead in the first place.

"What changed?" Blaine eventually says. "Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?"

Kurt smiles.

"I honestly don't know. But if you tell anyone then I'll break the other one too, okay?" Blaine laughs and it's like music to Kurt's ears. It's almost as though he's talking to an entirely different person, except of course he isn't. This is Blaine, his soulmate, his other half and he can't believe that he never realised before just how golden his eyes are, just how bright his smile is.

"Deal."

 

Kurt paces back and forth as he waits to go on stage. It feels as though he's been training for this very moment his entire life. All his years of training has lead him here and now, suddenly it's make or break.

"Hey," a voice says from behind him and Kurt turns to find Blaine leaning heavily on a crutch and carrying a huge bouquet of roses.

"Wow," Kurt says, heart filled to bursting at the sight. It's the first time he's seen Blaine since he first visited him in the hospital, so busy with rehearsals. He takes the flowers, tries not to let his eyes water with emotion, with fear, with yet another bout of guilt that it should be Blaine performing, not him. Kurt flings his arms around him, feeling for the first time the strong muscles beneath his shirt and feeling the thrill of just being close to his soulmate. He can't believe just over a week ago he was more than happy to just throw this away.

"Break a leg tonight, although not literally of course," Blaine says with a glance to his own bandaged foot.

"Two minutes everybody," Madame Mirov says to the crowd of nervous dancers.

"I should probably go," Kurt says with a nervous glance to the stage.

"Okay but...before you go, I wanted to give you something for good luck, if that's okay?" Kurt nods and before he can even wonder what Blaine wishes to give him, his lips are pressing cautiously against his own. From that moment, Kurt is lost to his senses, tasting Blaine against his lips as he tries to figure out how he spent his entire life without this, how he wasted so many years fighting Blaine when he could have been kissing him.

Kurt feels as though he melts into Blaine's body, hands clinging to his hips for dear life as he demands more but before he can get his fill of Blaine, Madame Mirov is quite literally tugging them apart and dragging Kurt to the stage to get into position.

He laughs at the ridiculousness of the situation, offering Blaine one last wave before he composes himself, ready to wow the audience. He knows he'll get to spend a lifetime with Blaine but this is his one chance to make an impression, to show what he can do individually and he knows he can't blow it.


	5. 2011

It all comes down to chance in the end. If Puck hadn't suggested he go spy on the warblers just to get him to leave, if Kurt hadn't stop him in particular on the staircase, if he hadn't immediately introduced himself as Blaine, then things may have turned out entirely different. There's nothing spectacular about their meeting, just two ordinary high school boys and an exchange of names. A sudden recognition in each of their eyes as they both in turn lift up the sleeves of their jackets to find the each other's names on their wrists.

It's as simple as that, two boys who found each other as they have done in every lifetime they have ever lived, over and over again, for all eternity.


End file.
